Bottles, bottles, bottles
As far as the [I] can see...
and your face at the bottom
of every
single
one.

Have you ever noticed how Night is suddenly upon you, no matter how hard you pay attention to the lowering sun or the varying shades of darkness? You can never really tell the exact moment when Day turns to Night.

this is beautiful krystle.
but i cant really figure out the connection between
this:

Bottles, bottles, bottles
As far as the [I] can see...
and your face at the bottom
of every
single
one.

...and the rest of the poem.

i mean, i can make a connection between getting drunk and:

"Within reach but-
way out of [my] grasp."

...but theres obviously something youre not telling me.

p.s. after seeing all of the poetry that you have posted on this site... i kinda feel robbed.
well...i dont know if that was the right word 2 use, but i just feel like i should always be the first 2 read ur poetry...even as nerve racking as that can be for you. lol

yup,hang-overs suck,I usually get all depressed the next morning and I easilly fall into missing certain people certain times etc,but I loved the
kind of melding of day and night you pick up on,the transition for me after a few nights out becomes very seemless too